I've nicely settled back into the routine of nursing college life. This morning we had a class on Personality Disorders: a general overview, with the two tutors making the point that this group of people are perhaps the most misunderstood of all patients. I've had plenty of experience of dealing with PDs over the years, and I've found it is very easy to get tired of their constant attention seeking, need for reassurance, self-harming (cutting, ODs, etc) and generally infantile behaviour. But it needs to be remembered that people suffering from a personality disorder don't choose to live their life this way. They are deeply disturbed individuals, often the survivors of sexual or other kinds of childhood abuse. Even at my most burned-out moments, having found myself over at A & E for the umpteenth time with a patient who's cut themselves, I've tried hard not to forget this. It isn't easy though.
I had a very odd phone call from the lovely Mrs A. this evening, asking me if I was all right, as I'd apparently been unusually quiet in class today? Another student had also commented on this, she told me. This question came as something as a surprise, as I've been perfectly fine, and was unaware that I'd been in any way quiet. I'd spoken out in class, as I usually do, and had some good points to make, I thought. So I'm totally baffled as to whatever this was about.
Here's a pic, done well over a year ago, before I had to stop drawing to concentrate on the course. I can only explain this pic by saying that I was trying to find a new way to do a cityscape (an obsession with me), and at the same time combine it with a figure in a chair. In the end, the solution I found was to fuse the whole lot together.